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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22383751">baby, who turned the temperature hotter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows'>ohallows</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tumblr prompts collection [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Forehead Kisses, Sickfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:01:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22383751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasha is not sick. She’s not. Sasha doesn’t get sick. Not even back in year three when all her mates had chicken pox and had been itching like crazy. Sasha’d flown right by all of that, to the bemusement of local teachers, doctors, and even her adopted father. Brock had been so jealous, scratching away in the room they shared and complaining about how Sasha was so lucky to not have caught it. It hadn’t even been that she’d done something different then the rest of them; she just liked to think her cells had dodged the sickness better than the rest.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Azu/Sasha Racket</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tumblr prompts collection [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584370</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>baby, who turned the temperature hotter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>prompt: Sasha and Azu! “i’m sick but no don’t worry about me, go to work, no really i can handle myself, love, it’s…. ok that sounds wonderful i’m giving up pls stay”</p><p> </p><p>this is just a fun fact zolf and sasha are the exact same when they’re sick i’ve decided this now it’s canon</p><p>also i dare y’all to guess what song the title is from</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sasha is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>sick. She’s not. Sasha doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>get</span>
  </em>
  <span> sick. Not even back in year three when all her mates had chicken pox and had been itching like crazy. Sasha’d flown right by all of that, to the bemusement of local teachers, doctors, and even her adopted father. Brock had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>so jealous</span>
  </em>
  <span>, scratching away in the room they shared and complaining about how Sasha was so lucky to not have caught it. It hadn’t even been that she’d done something different then the rest of them; she just liked to think her cells had dodged the sickness better than the rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or, there was that time in uni where everyone came down with the flu, coughing and hacking and sneezing and sniffing all over the place, and Sasha was left untouched. Sure, she felt a little achey, but that was probably more from the parkour training she was doing than anything else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sasha </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t get sick. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ever. Which means that the fuzzy feeling in her head </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> is probably because she needs a glass of water or a snack or maybe some orange juice. Or maybe she’s just tired. She hadn’t slept great last night, kept tossing and turning; hopefully she hadn’t kept Azu up as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolls over and massages her throat. It hurts a bit, feels a little dry; maybe she should grab some water. She swings her legs over the side of the bed and goes to stand, but drops back to the bed as she gets a sudden rush of vertigo. Maybe later then, she decides, laying down and burrowing back under the covers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the bathroom opens and Sasha cracks an eye open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” Azu greets, stepping out wrapped in a towel. “Shower’s free if you need it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I showered last night,” Sasha says, voice hoarse from sleep. She glances over at the clock on the nightstand; it’s a bit earlier than Azu usually gets up to leave. “Heading off soon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azu nods. “I’ve got a meeting with a local GP about some outpatient care strategies for one of my patients; we’re going to meet up for breakfast and talk about it over coffee.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, have fun,” Sasha says, voice still hoarse. Azu looks at her a bit strangely then, chewing on her lip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright, Sasha?” she asks, walking over to the bed and crouching down in front of her. “Your voice sounds rough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“M’alright,” she says, somewhat muffled by the pillow her face is smashed into. “Jus’ sleepy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azu doesn’t look like she believes her. “You look pale and clammy,” she says, brow knitting together in concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m always pale and clammy,” Sasha says, voice still sounding like she’s got a frog in her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azu laughs, quiet. “Not this much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stands up and walks into the bathroom; Sasha can hear her rummaging around in the small medicine cabinet they have and sighs. Azu clearly won’t be dissuaded by anything she says, so Sasha will have to just bear it for a minute until Azu realizes she really isn’t sick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azu comes back into the room, frowning, and empty handed. “I can’t find the thermometer, do you know where it is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sasha thinks back, running a hand over her face. Where - she was using it recently, it - </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Zolf and Hamid have it,” she says. “Theirs broke, and Ziza was sick. Forgot to get it back after. And I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we’ll just have to do without, I suppose. You definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> sick,” Azu says, leaning over her and pressing the back of her hand to Sasha’s forehead. She hums and pulls it back, conflicted. “You don’t feel that warm; do you mind if I -“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sasha waves her on, a bit too tired to be bothered. Whatever gets this silly sickness nonsense over with quicker, she supposes. Azu gives her a quick smile and leans down, pressing her lips to Sasha’s forehead. Sasha’s face immediately heats up at that, color rising to her cheeks. Azu pulls back with a frown. “Your head feels very warm, love. I think you have a fever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Azu,” Sasha says. “I don’t get sick. It’s probably just from being under the covers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not really how it works,” Azu mutters. “I might have a spare thermometer in my bag, one minute.” She disappears to the other side of the room and rummages around in a rucksack for a moment while Sasha lies there, staring up at the ceiling, massaging her throat. Really, she just needs a glass of water, and then she’ll be right as rain again. “Aha!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azu comes back over with what looks like a small glass stick in her hands, and sticks it out to Sasha. “Open your mouth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sasha resolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“What’s that?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thermometer. Need to stick it under your tongue for a few minutes,” Azu explains. “Please?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Sasha grouses, taking it from her and sticking it under her tongue, almost immediately pulling it out. “There, normal, see? Not sick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sasha,” Azu says, reproachful. Sasha sighs, and sticks it back under her tongue, only sulking a little bit. Azu leans down and kisses her on the forehead. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The minutes pass agonizingly slowly. It can’t have been more than two, but she feels like she’s been lying there forever when Azu finally comes over and takes the thermometer out of her mouth. “Hmm. It’s over 38 but not to a dangerous level. You definitely have a fever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Sasha grumbles, frowning. “Really, Azu, I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sasha, your temperature is 38.9 degrees. You aren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Azu sets the thermometer down on the bedside table and pulls out her phone. “I’m going to text Bette, we can meet up in a few days. It’s not crucial.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No - Azu, c’mon, you don’t have to cancel your plans for me,” Sasha says, sitting up. Azu doesn’t let her get far, gently easing her back down into her bed. Sasha’s head really shouldn’t be spinning this much, just from trying to sit up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really think I should stay home,” Azu says, chewing on her lip. “Have you honestly never been sick before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sasha shakes her head. “Never. Which means I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>obviously. I don’t get </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you’re absolutely sick,” Azu says, shaking her head. “I’ll make you some soup, alright? Just stay here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I’m just a little tired,” Sasha says, grabbing Azu’s hand and keeping her from going anywhere. “Go have your meeting with Bette.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azu fixes her with a determined glance. “I don’t mind, and she won’t either. Let’s just get you all healed up and make sure the fever doesn’t stay around for long, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azu, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>alright</span>
  </em>
  <span>, promise, okay?” Sasha says, sitting up and pulling Azu down to sit on the bed with her. Her head spins a bit, and she has to blink for a moment before the room stops swirling around her. “You can go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t think I should. And I have enough personal time at the office, I can take some of it off to help you when you’re sick,” Azu pulls her phone out of her pocket and Sasha makes a swipe for it, leaning forward as far as she can. She must really be tired, because Azu just holds it out of her reach and Sasha can’t even get close. She makes a frustrated sound and then lies back in the bed, defeated. “There. Bette doesn’t even mind, and I didn’t tell her you’re sick, just that I’m busy. Is that okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... M’not sick,” Sasha grumbles, except, well… maybe that dry feeling in her throat is worse than before, and her head really </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>spinning, a lot more than it had been, and she shouldn’t be this tired after just trying to grab a phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want to take care of you, Sasha,” Azu says, and Sasha stops protesting for a moment just to look at her. She still looks worried, concern evident in her eyes, and Sasha sighs. Her head really is killing her, and her throat is as dry as she can remember it being, and her muscles feel like she just worked out the day before… and maybe, just maybe, being taken care of wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well - I mean - that </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>sound nice, yeah, but m’not </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick</span>
  </em>
  <span>, alright, just… down. Peckish. Maybe I had some bad stew at Grizzop’s, yesterday. Or that weird drink Cel made. Probably did it, yeah…” she trails off, nodding slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Azu says, clearly playing along, but Sasha isn’t going to complain about it when Azu is agreeing with her. “I’m going to go make you some soup. You’ll be alright up here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... yeah,” Sasha eventually says, tempted to pull the blanket over her face. She settles on pulling them up to her chin and closing her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful! I shouldn’t be long. Here,” Azu says, handing Sasha her phone. “Call me if you need anything else. Oh - wait.” She heads into the bathroom and Sasha can hear her rummaging around again. Azu reappears with a few pills and a small cup filled with water. “Some acetaminophen. Should help reduce the fever. And keep drinking water, alright? I’ll bring you some more after the soup’s simmering.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She helps Sasha sit up and hands her the glass of water so that she can swallow the pills more easily. Sasha does, and then Azu sets the cup of water on the bedside table as she lays down, closing her eyes. The water’s cool, and it does help smooth her throat, so she’s been onto something with the water from the start. And, honestly, it’s probably a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good idea</span>
  </em>
  <span> to listen to Azu, considering she’s a licensed medical professional. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything else you need?” Azu asks, instinctively fluffing the pillows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell Hamid,” Sasha mutters, cracking her eye open as she looks at Azu. “He’s not allowed to know I have a weakness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sasha, being sick isn’t -“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Not allowed</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azu laughs a bit, reaching down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Okay. Can I tell Zolf?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sasha thinks on it for a minute. “No, he can’t keep a secret from Hamid even if his life depended on it. Best to be safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, love,” Azu says. “I won’t tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sasha hums in thanks, and lets her eyes slip closed as she curls up under the blankets. If she ignores the aches and the sore throat and the stuffy head, being sick is actually quite nice, especially when Azu’s here to make her feel better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you,” Sasha mumbles into the pillow, nearly too quiet for Azu to hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too,” Azu says, soft. “I’ll be back when the soup’s done.” The door clicks shut behind her and the room fades into silence. Sasha can’t hide the small smile that creeps onto her face. Azu is so good to her; Sasha knows how lucky she is, really. She still wishes Azu hadn't had to cancel her meeting with Bette, but Sasha’s a bit too tired to be concerned about it anymore, not when the alternative is Azu staying here and staying close to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolls over and rests her hand against Azu’s side of the bed, nudging the pillow closer to her gently so she can pretend that Azu is holding her in her arms. Maybe not the best idea while Sasha’s sick, but, well. Azu makes her feel comforted, loved, and she wouldn’t trade that for the world or any of the jewels under the sun.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>would u like a prompt? i am Handing Them Out hmu on tumblr at ohallows and feel free to request anything !!</p><p>kudos and comments are as always v appreciated</p></blockquote></div></div>
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